


Field Medicine

by W4nderingStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Jack takes care of him, M/M, Needles, Omnic Crisis era fic, War, You will take medic Jack from me when you pry him from my cold dead hands, a moment ensues, gabe gets hurt, injuries, shots, some blood but nothing crazy graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 01:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16231838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/pseuds/W4nderingStar
Summary: “You’re not my commanding officer,” Jack snapped. He pulled a syringe out of the pouch on his belt and yanked the cap off with his teeth. He spit it out. “You’re my patient.”





	Field Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> And ya'll might as well unfollow me if you don't believe Jack wanted to be a doctor/veterinarian pre-SEP/Pre-Robot apocalypse because that's my head-canon and I will never not write Jack as the plucky kid that wants to help everyone by keeping them alive.

 

 

**Field Medicine**

 

“Stupid, dumb, idiotic, moronic,” Jack muttered, the scream of jets and the rattling fire of guns drowning out his words. 

 

“You’re not allowed to talk your commanding officer like that,” Gabe said in a light tone. 

 

“You’re not my commanding officer,” Jack snapped. He pulled a syringe out of the pouch on his belt and yanked the cap off with his teeth. He spit it out. “You’re my patient.” He lined up the needle tip to the vein closest to the wound. “Brace.”

 

The warning was futile. Gabe barely tensed as Jack jabbed the needle in. They’d been stuck so many times, this field painkiller wouldn’t even crack their top one hundred bad injections. Gabe went slack as the medicine flowed until Jack removed the needle and tossed it aside. 

 

After a moment, Gabe nodded. “Feeling good.” 

 

“Sit back,” Jack ordered. 

 

“Can’t, dizzy.” 

 

Jack looked up from the wound for the first time since he started working on it. Gabe smiled at him, the dopey grin out of place among the explosions and screams all around them. Jack reached up, cradling Gabe’s neck with one hand, pushing him back to lean against a slab of broken wall with the other. 

 

“Keep still,” he ordered. “I need to stop the bleeding.” He pulled Gabe’s dirty, gloved hand away from the wound. 

 

“Like it when you get bossy.” Gabe’s words slurred. That wasn’t like him. Normally he shrugged off the side effects. 

 

“Adrenaline amps up the painkiller’s effects,” Jack said, digging in his medical kit. “Try to calm down, you still have to lead us through this.” 

 

“You could do it,” Gabe said with a shrug. He tried to lift his hand but Jack pinned it under Gabe’s own thigh to keep it still.

 

“I’m busy,” Jack said. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

 

“Oh, I noticed,” Gabe grunted. 

 

Something exploded a few feet from them. Jack shifted his body, using it to shield Gabe from the rain of dirt. Damn it! The last thing they needed was dirt in the wound. 

 

“I like your serious face.” 

 

“I like you alive,” Jack said, surprised his voice sounded so calm while he was panicking inside. He pulled out a packet of sealing gel. “I’m going to put this in you.” 

 

“Didn’t think the first time you’d be inside me was in the middle of a warzone. Thought you’d at least take me to a nice dinner on my birthday.”

 

“Shut up.” This wasn’t the time for Gabe’s terrible sense of humor. He tore the packet with his teeth and squeezed the gel into the hole in Gabe’s stomach.

 

Gabe grunted. “Fuck. Hope you’re not so rough on my birthday.” 

 

“I told you to shut up.” 

 

“You’re supposed to bleach the blood,” Gabe said. “Protocol. To keep the SEP serum—” 

 

“Screw protocol,” Jack said.

 

The gel expanded, filling and sealing the wound. Once it turned white and cloudy, Jack taped a strip of gauze over it. He hoped it held through the rest of the mission. 

 

“Done.” 

 

“Where’s my lollipop, doctor?” Gabe asked. 

 

“I’m not a doctor, just a field medic.” 

 

“You’d make a damn good doctor,” Gabe said. He cocked his head away from Jack and pressed his earpiece. “We’re falling back,” he said. 

 

_ Retreating? Again? _ Was what Jack wanted to say. “We need to evac you and get that bullet out,” was what came out of his mouth. 

 

“I could use a hand,” Gabe said. “Still a little dizzy.” 

 

Jack stood and took Gabe’s hand, pulling him to his feet. He didn’t stay on them long. Jack stepped in, catching Gabe before he fell. Gabe sagged against Jack’s chest. 

 

“What’s wrong?” 

 

“Give me a minute.” One of Gabe’s arms wrapped around Jack’s neck, pulling him into an awkward embrace. 

 

“Reaction to the painkiller?” Jack asked, putting his arm around Gabe’s waist to support him better. “The gel?”

 

“We just lost Delta Team,” Gabe whispered. “Haven’t heard from Charlie Team, they’re presumed dead.” 

 

No wonder they were retreating, that was half their force. “I’m getting you out of here,” Jack said, slingling Gabe’s arm around his shoulders. 

 

“Gotta coordinate—” 

 

“You coordinate,” Jack said. “I’ll walk.” 

 

They made it to the extraction point without dying. There were no doctors. He was the sole surviving field medic. He herded soldiers with the worst injuries onto the first dropship. Gabe insisted he’d go on the last. Jack was one more stubborn comment away from throwing Gabe over his shoulder and  _ carrying _ him onto the first dropship. In the end he convinced his commander that  _ maybe _ a gunshot wound to the gut was serious enough to be treated immediately.

 

Jack  set to work preparing the soldiers for takeoff. He cordoned off a row of seats and insisted Gabe lay down while Jack tended to the other wounded. Only when they were out of hostile airspace and Jack finished checking injuries did he finally sit on the floor by Gabe’s side.

 

A hand rested on his head, ruffling his hair. 

 

“What’s the matter, boy scout? We did what we could.” 

 

“Nothing’s the matter.”

 

Gabe’s hand trailed down the back of Jack’s neck. “You can tell me,” Gabe said, barely audible over the dropship’s engines.

 

Jack turned his head, just enough to look at Gabe’s midsection. Despite the gauze, Jack could still see the wound in his mind - raw, gaping, bleeding everywhere, every heartbeat threatening to take Gabe away.  _ Permanently. _ That scared him more than the relentless machines and their unending guns. 

 

Gabe dropped his thumb to the base of Jack’s neck, rubbing a small circle into the muscle. 

 

Jack’s heart flip-flopped. “Why did you do it?” 

 

“Do what?” 

 

“I deserved that bullet,” Jack said. “It was my fault.” 

 

“I could tell you it was a tactical decision,” Gabe said, his strong hand still a soothing weight on Jack’s neck. “You’re the medic, if you die, we all die.” 

 

Jack scoffed. “Some medic. I couldn’t save anyone else.” 

 

Gabe’s hand slid over Jack’s shoulder and down to his chest. Gabe pulled him closer, nuzzling against his ear. Jack shivered. 

 

“You’re not a tactical decision to me,  _ chico _ . I would take any number of bullets to keep you safe. I love you.”

 

Jack sighed and turned to nuzzle Gabe back. “That’s what I’m worried about,” he said. “That you’ll keep taking bullets for me and one time, I won’t be able to save you.” 

 

“Never,” Gabe assured him. “You’re stuck with me,  _ oro _ . Though I  _ do _ have one complaint.” 

 

Jack stared at the stubborn idiot he was in love with. “I promise to be more gentle with you on your birthday.” 

 

 

 


End file.
